Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Fat Chick

Yep. I'm a fat chick. Rather a large girl. That's me.
People have been kind, "Oh, you're not fat!" "I've seen fat, that's not you!". Thank you dear friends. I feel so good about myself for a few minutes when you say those things. Then I climb a flight of stairs, or catch a glimpse of myself in a window reflection, or actually notice how large my underpants are when folding the laundry.
I confessed to someone recently why I am fat. I hadn't planned on sharing that with anyone. Ever. It seemed really stupid. It still does.
The fact is, I am fat now, and I don't want to be anymore. I want to be healthy. I want to be confident that no matter where I find myself, I will always fit entirely on the chair, that the arms won't get stuck on my hips and cause embarrassment when I try to get up. I want to be able to use the public restroom without the stall door brushing my belly fat! I don't want to have to turn sideways when going through a turnstile at the State Fair.
I want to practice soccer drills with my kids and ride a bicycle more than half a block!
There was a time when walking, running, lifting weights at the 'Y', and swimming - in a swimsuit - were fun. Now those things all sound like horrifying punishments, meant to humiliate.
Okay. Here it is. Do I really want anyone on earth to be able to read this? If I never lose all of the weight, will this haunt me forever? Sigh. Okay God. I AM listening, I just don't like it. I don't really want to do it. I'm doing it. I'M DOING IT!
It's because men are stupid. Gee whiz. HE notices everything. Men are not entirely stupid, but some of them, at some point have done something stupid.
In my brief history, more than one adult, married, and seemingly 'Godly' man has proven himself to be more than stupid. As a teen and young adult, these men have pressed upon me their lustful desires. Now, they did not actually touch me or force me to do anything. They made their thoughts plain, and allowed me to say 'no way!', but without any consequence on their part. Who was I going to tell? Who would believe me? Who would care as long as nothing 'actually happened'?
Here I am, wondering what it is I am doing to invite this behavior. Am I walking a particular way? Is it my clothing? (my parents have always encouraged modest dress, and, honestly, I don't feel comfortable in immodest clothing anyway!) Do I look at people in a way that is inviting? Is there some smoldering, come-hither look that I am completely unaware of shooting from my eyes? What could it possibly be?
Do I have an aura of helplessness? Of neediness? Do I laugh to readily at a joke? Is it wrong to shoot out a joke of my own? Do I listen too well? Not well enough? Am I putting myself in these situations?
I though so, for a long time I thought so.
Then, I go married. I thought "I don't need to encourage men to notice my physically any more, so I'll put on weight. That'll stop their problems. Men aren't attracted to heavy women!" So it began. Then it continued. What began as a defense became a habit. A way of life. An issue all on it's own. Guess what I found out after a divorce. There ARE men out there who like fat women. Or they don't care what shape the woman is. Certain kinds of men are out there. Some how, I am a complete loser magnet.
I found one that isn't a loser. He's great. He's supportive of me and loves me. I'll tell more about him later.
I know now that the shape of my body isn't going to stop a stupid man from being stupid.
I am headed back to the 'Y'!

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